


Milking it

by sackform



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Breast Expansion, Breast Growth, Consensual, Lactation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24284089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sackform/pseuds/sackform
Summary: Prompt from the granblue fantasy kink memeLancelot/Vane - breast growth/expansion + lactation
Relationships: Lancelot/Vane (Granblue Fantasy)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Milking it

**Author's Note:**

> Kink meme prompt: [link](https://www.dreamwidth.org/go?redir_type=threadroot&journal=gbfkinkmeme&talkid=13835)
>
>> **Vane/anyone, lactation**  
>  Please consider how badly Vane’s fat tits need to be milked, he needs some relief! Bonus points if you can include a little breastfeeding, as a treat.

Vane never lied when he was young. Well, more that he _couldn't_ — he'd get flustered, stammer, eventually blurt out some excuse and flee the confrontation. But it seems that part of adulthood is becoming used to uncomfortable things.

He flashes a grin at Lance as he returns his practice weapon to the rack. "I'll catch you at dinner," he says, and proceeds to hightail it out of there and up to his room without so much as a pause to wipe the sweat off the back of his neck.

He apologises silently to Lance for the lie, whose eyes track him as he retreats.

When he finally shuts the door to his room, he closes the latch and checks it twice, before he lets himself release a halting breath that shudders from between his teeth.

That _hurt_. The whole training session the extra cloth he'd wrapped around his chest had rubbed, and chafed. Every time he lunged, every time he dealt or took a blow with his spear, his skin grew more sensitive.

He pulls his shirt off, and whimpers as he untucks the wrappings so they fall to the floor. He bites his lip as he raises his fingertips to trace the swollen skin.

They're bigger, he thinks. He's pretty sure they're _bigger_. At least they're less sore now they aren't compressed beneath his training clothes, but that poses another problem.

He slumps down on his bed. His... his _breasts_ jiggle as he does. He holds them still. The _worst_ part of this is they're so _hot_! They look _amazing_! He's seen his share of boobs -- honestly, he has. And while he's enjoyed them all (very much) these? These are the _best_. He squeezes them together, creating a deep line of cleavage. His dick twitches. He releases the fastenings of his trousers and fishes it out, stroking up its length as he squeezes the nipple of one of his breasts and rolls it between his fingers.

Times like this he wishes he had three hands. One for each of his breasts, and a third for his dick. Maybe a fourth for an adventuresome finger up his ass, too. A laugh bursts from between his lips as he thinks about what Lance would have to say about this if he told him all of his thoughts like he used to when they were kids. Like when he first showed Lance what touches felt good, and laughed it off when Lance had nervously asked him whether it was okay to touch himself. When he first leaned forward to press their lips--

He pinches his nipple. Gasps -- sharp. _Now_ , he's busy getting off. _Now_ , isn't time to think about the times he should have lied.

Knuckles rap at his door. Lance's voice follows. Vane rolls to the side to present his back to the door. Lancey has the _worst_ timing.

"Vane?" Lance repeats. "One of the cleaners said you weren't looking well." Traitors! Everywhere!

"I'm fine!" Vane calls out to the door. He regrets it as soon as he hears his voice. It's strangled and rushed. But, while uncomfortable for training, it's not like this is _bad_ , it's not like he _minds_. He's just got to finish up what he's doing, and then--

Lance's boot crashes into his room. The latch dangles, useless. Lance sure has bulked up.

"Lancey!" he squeaks. His voice has climbed another octave. In an attempt to cover both his privates and his breasts he twists into the sheets and thumps off the far side of the bed.

Lancelot's eyes fix to his chest. Vane covers his breasts with his hands, as if Lance seeing his nipples is the problem, and not the fact that he _has breasts_ in the first place.

Lance turns and shuts the door, taking a moment to wedge a chair against it, though who he thinks would barge into Vane's room _other_ than him is anyone's guess.

"What in the skies..." Lance says, stepping towards Vane.

Vane squirms, making a futile attempt to press his breasts back into his chest, though he knows they're only more obvious like this, pressed up like the tight shirts the draph barmaids wear. He squeezes his eyes shut when Lance settles in front of him. If he can't see Lance then Lance has to go away and leave him to tend to his rapidly softening dick, right?

"Did someone do this to you?" Lancelot asks, gently shifting Vane's hands down, so his breasts fall, showing very clearly that Vane's chest has a very different shape to Lancelot's.

"Yeah?" Vane answers, before his brain decides to work. "I mean no? Or, I guess--" he takes a breath, "sort of?" Vane cracks open one eye, just a sliver -- enough to see the concern in Lance's expression.

Vane is acutely aware that his dick is still out.

Lancelot doesn't say a word, but he reaches for one of Vane's breasts, hefts it, and waits.

Vane swallows. "S-so, you know those magic tomes, in the basement?" Lancelot nods, and Vane keeps speaking, each word flowing more easily than the last. "There was this one which had some illustrations and it was all in this magic sparkle language that no one can read, but the _pictures_ they were, uh. Cool." He flushes. He should maybe have picked a different one to fixate on, but he hadn't thought just looking at it would _do_ anything. If he'd known just _looking_ would make the magic work, he'd have chosen the one with the dick as big as a third arm, he'd have had some fun with _that_. "And there was this one with this, uh, pe--" Lance chose that moment to twist his nipple between his fingers, and the skin around it contracts into wrinkles. His dick stops getting softer. " _Per_ son," Vane forces out. "This person who had this _amazing_ rack. Like, Lancey, you know how sometimes they're so full and big but you can just tell they'd also be _soft_? But this guy-- well, I think, g-given this, it was a guy, he looked so happy," Vane finishes, lamely. "Then this happened."

Again, Lance chooses not to speak. "I know it was stupid," Vane says to fill the silence, "and I shouldn't have been down there, but I overheard some guys talking about these cool old warrior scrolls from before the war and I thought if those were going to be anywhere they'd be down with those books and--"

Lancelot takes the nipple in his mouth. Vane shuts up.

He can feel the breath from Lance's nose on his skin, feel the movement of his tongue as it nudges Vane's hard nipple in circles. He sucks. It's the best thing Vane has ever felt. Lancelot begins ministrations on his other breast with a hand, and guides Vane up and onto the bed with his other, not removing his mouth from Vane's nipple for a moment.

Heat rises to Vane's cheeks, breasts, and dick. He hadn't thought he'd ever get to have Lancelot touching him like this since they grew up. This--well, not _this_ , he'd never imagined _this_ , but something _like_ this-- is something he's dreamed about for years. Every time he was on a solo mission, far away from anyone, and needed to keep his head on straight, he'd think of Lancey keeping him warm.

He jolts back to the present. "Lancey, watch o--"

Lancelot breaks off, coughing, and peering in disbelief at his hand. He pokes out his tongue, and licks a bead of the white fluid on his fingers off. A number of expressions flicker across his face, but it settles on Vane's favourite, where Vane can hear the laughter hiding just under his words. "It's milk, Vane. You're producing milk."

" _What_?" Vane squawks, trying to get a good view of his new breasts. "Lancey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

But Lance returns his lips to Vane's nipple, smiling around it, and sucking carefully, swallowing as his mouth fills with white milk. He doesn't return his hand to Vane's other breast, but instead it drifts, hesitantly, towards his leg. Vane moves it the rest of the way for him, pushing it against his dick. "Can't promise that will taste nice if you decide to suck on it though," he jokes, and he can feel the rumble of Lancelot's laughter against his skin.

As Lance continues to suckle at his breast, and works his hand on his dick, Vane's unattended breast begins to feel heavier, fuller, becoming uncomfortable, and then sore. He's about to speak, when Lancelot rises from his other breast, and wipes a finger over his lip and sucks the trace of milk off it. "I finished it," he laughs, and moves to the breast that is still full and aching.

"You were thirsty, huh?" Vane says, watching as Lancelot tends to his breast, and absently works his dick. Lancelot bobs his head, but doesn't let up on his work. "Does it taste good?" Lance bobs again, but more emphatically, squeezing Vane's dick at the same time. "H-hey, easy on that!"

Lancelot releases his breast, and Vane's heart skips at the sight of his smile again. "Do you want to try?"

"Wh-what--" Vane begins to say, but finds himself saying it against Lancelot's mouth, as Lancelot slides his tongue between Vane's lips. The taste is sweet, and clean, not cloying like cow milk or thin like goat's.

Lancelot resumes his work on Vane's breast, working it until no more milk flows. It takes several minutes, and Vane releases some time before then, letting Lancelot stop his ministrations on Vane's dick and focus solely on his breast.

Once he finishes, Lancelot looks Vane over, taking in the picture he makes, and his lips twitch into a fond smile. He wipes his messy hand off on Vane's skin and stands. "Please, leave the books to me in the future," he says, and leaves Vane alone in his room.


End file.
